


You Are A Woman Just As You Are A Man

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Genderplay, Genderqueer Character, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Tenderness, femme!Daryl, genderqueer!Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1341829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's never told anyone about how he sees himself, and Glenn would do anything to support him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are A Woman Just As You Are A Man

“Y'don't mind this, do you?” 

Glenn paused as he was tidying himself up. “Mind what? Mind being with you, sharing a tent with you, and having wonderful, satisfying sex with you? Oh yeah, totally. It's such a chore. I don't know how I do it.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Dumbass. You know what I mean.” He gestured to the white lace panties that Glenn had tried very hard not to damage, even though he'd all but torn them off of Daryl in a fit of passion. 

“Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.” The younger man gave both of the redneck's big toes a tug, making the joints crackle a little.

“That ain't an answer.” Daryl was getting quiet again, and not looking him in the eyes. Glenn knew that was a bad sign.

“Daryl,” Glenn sat next to him and combed his fingers through his lover's increasingly long, messy hair, “I like it. I like how cute you look in those things. And how happy you look when you're wearing them. Not just when we have sex. I can totally tell when you're wearing something pretty under those worn out clothes of yours.”

“Really?” Daryl dragged Glenn down so he could curl up against him, their ankles crossing each others. 

“Yeah. You don't look so sad.” 

Daryl buried his face against Glenn's skinny neck. The kid could split him open with just a few words. There was no hiding from him. 

Glenn stroked Daryl's shoulders. He could feel the tension built up in them. No matter how many times the younger man rubbed and massaged them, the knots never went away. His hand moved up and began rubbing the back of Daryl's neck. It seemed to help a little.

“It's ok baby.” Glenn whispered, before kissing the top of his lover's head. 

“It ain't.” Daryl took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. It was so easy for Glenn to be open about everything. He hated how difficult it was for him so just come out and say the things he felt. “Would you still like me if I weren't a man?”

Glenn pulled back so he could look Daryl in the eyes. “Absolutely.”

“Really?” 

“Your gender, or how you express it, can't and won't change how much I love you.”

Daryl kissed him, a lingering touch of lips meant to show thanks, before going on.

“I ain't never really felt like a man.” The words couldn't be stopped now. They were the things he'd always wanted to say out loud to someone else, but had always been too scared to. Scared because he didn't fully understand them, and if he didn't, how could anyone else understand and accept them? “I dunno if it means I'm a woman or somethin'...”

“Well, maybe you are, or maybe you're something else? Maybe you're genderqueer or gender fluid or another gender entirely.”

Daryl paused. “Wait, what? What the hell are you talkin' 'bout?” He looked Glenn with confusion. “I always thought that it was either you was a man or a woman.”

The younger man shrugged. “Not really. There's a bunch of different genders besides those two.”

He sat up, the things Glenn were completely foreign to him, but they made sense. This was blowing Daryl's mind. All his life he'd felt a panic that even though he had certain features about him other people said men had, he definitely didn't see himself as one. That wouldn't have been so bad, but he never felt like he was a woman either. That in-between space had made him panic, and he tried not to think of it. He knew no words for that space. It was the unknown, the void. Being there meant he was nothing and had no worth. But now, there were words, and it meant that he was something.

“What does genderqueer mean?” He murmured, crossing his legs and picking at an ingrown hair on his thigh. The word sounded strange to him, unwieldy.

“It can mean different things to different people...generally, it means you're not in the male-female binary, and you exist somewhere else on this big ass spectrum. It's really subjective.” Glenn waved his hands wide. “I think. Someone explained it to me once. Anyway, no matter how you define it,” he poined at Daryl, “your gender is valid.”

The older man man didn't say anything. He sat, processing this new, life-changing information. After thinking it through he spoke.

“Maybe that's what I am.”

The younger man rested his hand on the small of Daryl's back. “That's awesome!” He sat up and put his arms around the redneck, who could only breathe out a sigh of relief at knowing that Glenn didn't care that he was so different from him.

**

The next few days were the happiest of Daryl's life. He felt as if a gigantic weight had been lifted off of him, and he could finally stand up. And Glenn was still alongside him. It was a little strange though, some of the questions the kid asked him. Things like what kind of pronouns he wanted him to use. Daryl figured “he” worked so far, no reason to change it. 

Then, during their next supply run, Daryl decided to do something bold. He crammed his bag full of things to make him feel more like himself. Things that he'd always been told in no uncertain terms that men were not allowed to enjoy, even though he'd always wanted to enjoy them. That night, Glenn watched him paint his toenails a dark blue color. He was sloppy, and the nail polish ended up all over his toes, but Daryl looked so pleased with himself that it didn't matter.

“Blue looks nice on you.” Glenn stroked Daryl's leg gently, his fingers toying with one of the many tears in his pants. 

“You think?” Daryl flexed his toes. “This stuff dries real fast too.” 

“What else did you get yourself?” 

Daryl dumped out his bag. There was a pinkish-red lipstick, a lip gloss that looked like it was jam packed with shimmery bits, a tube of mascara that promised to give volume and length while being waterproof, a pair of black knee-high socks, and a short sleeved floral dress. 

“The dress looks nice.” Glenn picked it up. It was black with big red roses woven the top layer of silky, fluttery fabric on top of the slip. It was a cheap, polyester thing, but it was still cute. 

“Yeah. I like it.” Daryl was grinning. Just looking at all of that stuff made him feel excited and optimistic. “Wanna see how it looks on me?”

“Of course.” The younger man handed it over and covered his eyes to give Daryl the chance to change in some privacy. He stopped himself from peeking even when he heard Daryl toss his pants aside and the buckle from his belt clatter. There was a rustling of fabric, and Daryl spoke.

“You can look now.”

Glenn opened his eyes and his jaw dropped. The dress looked perfect on Daryl. The top part of it was snug on most of the torso but a little loose on the chest because of his lack of breasts, and the skirt flared out and stopped just above the knee on him. The fabric had a little stretch, so it accommodated Daryl's shoulders. The floral print of the garment contrasted with his beard and muscles in a pretty way. Daryl looked genuinely happy, his narrow blue eyes shining bright and his brow relaxed for once. Glenn thought that the dress looked perfect on him, like he was made to wear stuff like that.

“Whaddya think?”

Glenn grinned and reached out to pick a piece of string off of the garment. “I'd tell you you look good, but that doesn't quite cover it.” 

Daryl flushed. “Aw, go on.”

“I'm not kidding. You look like the prettiest girl with a goatee.” 

“You think so?” He felt something stir within himself. Being called a girl used to hurt because he'd been taught that there was nothing more shameful to be like a girl, but now it was different. When Glenn said it, it sounded like the biggest honor in the world. He crawled closer to the younger man and sat on his lap. “Does that mean I'm your pretty girl?”

The younger man smiled. “Yeah. You are.” His hands drifted up Daryl's thighs, slipping under the skirt of the dress. They rested on the tops of his thighs, stroking the fluffy hair that grew on them. 

Daryl sighed, goosebumps rising up on his arms. Glenn's hands were so smooth and felt so good on his skin. They felt like everything that was right in the world, even though that wasn't much anymore. He rocked his hips against Glenn lap. 

“You gonna treat me good?” It was a bit of a silly question, because Glenn was more than good to him, but he felt like being coy and flirtatious. He'd watched women do that, use words in a playful, enticing manner, and wished he could do the same and not have it be seen as weird. 

“Oh I wouldn't dream of doing anything but.” Glenn's hands were on his ass now, toying with the edges of his panties. He'd chosen a lace-trimmed, black pair that morning. “What does my pretty girl want?” His fingers slipped under the panties and Daryl inhaled sharply. They'd messed around like this before, with Glenn drawing out what Daryl wanted with flirtatious questions, but never with him wearing a dress or Glenn calling him a girl. He liked it. It felt right and comfortable. 

“I want you to lift my dress up,” Glenn hiked up the skirt up to Daryl's waist. “I want you to slip your hand under my panties.” His breath hitched as one of Glenn's hands slipped down the front of them and grasped his cock. “And I want you to make me cum.” 

Glenn began to move his hand, and Daryl held onto him, his hands on the back of his neck. The motion of the younger man's hand on his cock was familiar now. Glenn knew what spots to stroke with his thumb, and where to put the most pressure. He knew how to milk an orgasm out of Daryl better than anyone before him. 

“You have the nicest cock of any girl I've ever met.” Daryl moved forward into Glenn's hand before kissing him, his tongue lazily caressing the younger man's lips. Glenn kept talking, stopping only when Daryl would kiss him.

“You're my lovely,” his hand sped up and Daryl bit down on Glenn's bottom lip, “sweet,” Daryl whimpered and his hips moved along with the motion of Glenn's hand, “perfect girl.” 

Daryl rarely let any noises slip out when they did this, but when he came, a moan tore through his throat. Glenn let him rest his head on his shoulder as the quivering from the orgasm passed, leaving Daryl limp in his arms. 

“Did you like that?” Glenn asked with a grin. Daryl nodded, and rubbed up against Glenn's cock. He was still hard, having focused all his energies on making Daryl feel good. 

“Lay down.” Daryl mumbled as he mouthed at Glenn's chin, the tiniest hint of stubble staring to grow there. “I wanna suck you off.”

“Twist my arm.” The younger man laid down and pushed down his pants. Daryl laid down between his legs and began licking slow licks up his cock. His lips lingered around the edge of the head, treating it like it was a delicious treat meant to be savored. Glenn cupped Daryl's face, caressing his cheeks and jaw as he took the younger man's cock in his mouth, slowly bobbing up and down on it. 

“God, you're such a good girl.” Glenn groaned.

Daryl looked up at him and fluttered his eyelashes, making the younger man laugh a little. “Wow, I didn't think anyone could be cute with a cock in their mouth, but you're proving me wrong.”

The way Glenn was talking to him was so nice, Daryl was actually starting to believe that he could be sweet, and cute, and pretty, and delicate. That he was someone another person could actually care about and be kind to. That was why the love he felt for Glenn was so big it was a little frightening. It was a monumental thing, being able to feel like a person and not a waste of space.

Glenn kept whispering and groaning out those gentle words, telling Daryl over and over that he was the prettiest, sweetest girl, and that he loved him. He only stopped when he came, because he always unconsciously held his breath when he would get close. Daryl swallowed happily until he was sure there was not a drop left. He sat up, his legs bent underneath him and his hands resting on his knees, the slightly bitter taste of Glenn's cum lingering on his tongue.

“I'm gonna have to wash this thing before I wear it again.” Daryl ruffled the skirt, the wet patches on the slip sticking to his skin.

“Rick and all of them are gonna be in for a hell of a surprise when they see you in that.” Glenn sat up, tucking himself back into his pants. “Don't worry though, if anyone gives you grief about it, I'll beat the shit out of them.”

Daryl chuckled. “So you're gonna be my bodyguard?” 

“Hell yeah, Kevin Costner-style. No one's gonna dare to talk smack about my baby. I'm gonna protect the hell out of you.”

Daryl shook his head. He couldn't imagine Glenn posing much of a physical threat to anyone, but it was nice knowing he had at least someone in his corner. He looked down at his bitten down nails.

“D'you think I should paint them?”

“Yeah, it would match your toes then.”

Daryl grabbed the bottle of nail polish. He managed to get his left hand painted up pretty well, but the right hand was proving to be more of a problem. 

“Need some help?” Glenn asked.

“Yeah.” Daryl handed him the bottle, and held out his hand. Glenn fared only a little bit better than he did. Neither of them had much experience with that kind of thing, but the end result didn't look half bad.


End file.
